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I can’t get Zayden out of my head with another guy. But when you’re used to mind-bending kisses that weaken your legs and a man who takes control of you like he owns you, a sloppy cheek kiss from Trace isn’t going to cutit.
I end up back home early in bed with anotherbook.
“Did you have fun?” Mom wants toknow.
“No,” I say. Hey, it’s the truth.
She gives me a disapproving look then retreats back to where she came from. I know I have to get over this. I know I’m going to spend the rest of my life comparing Zayden to every man I meet, because he was my first. And if he was the best, too, then Houston, we have a problem. Because I won’t want anyone else. I want him. I misshim.
Maybe that’s the remnants of beer talking but as bad as he was for me, I still misshim.
I miss Olivia, too.
And this night, for the first time in six weeks, I cry my eyeballs out. I cry them out hard, sobbing all baby-like, really owning the heartache and abandonment. I pray that Olivia’s mom is treating her right. I pray that the little girl is happy to be reunited, that she’s not too confused at all the turmoil going on in her life, and I pray that one day, I can get overthis.
Because this sucks.
Massively.
I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.